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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24017176">About That Night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty'>yespolkadot_kitty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Man of Steel (2013)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, F/M, Fluff, Smut, eventual romantic suspense/mystery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:07:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,953</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24017176</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark Kent AU. A snowstorm, two strangers, only one room.</p><p>What could go wrong?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clark Kent/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks so much to my beta, @princess-of-riviaa !</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Come on, come on.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess Kazinsky tried to tamp down on her impatience as she waited in line at the airport hotel - unusually nice for a budget outfit. Flowers on the desk - fresh ones, not fake. And the staff looked as if they didn’t hate being here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, no one in line, including Jess, felt the same way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connecting flights had been grounded due to a freak snowstorm. Not unheard of for April, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> unwanted, and so three planes’ worth of people waited, disgruntled, as the two overworked desk clerks tried to find them enough rooms for one night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess just had to cross her fingers and hope that the rooms didn’t run out before her turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh, she set her hard shell suitcase on the carpeted hotel lobby floor and sat on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bad day, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glanced up, and then back again, because no way was a guy </span>
  <em>
    <span>this handsome</span>
  </em>
  <span> speaking to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess looked behind her, forgetting she was sitting, and came face-to-ass with the behind of a stout Danny DeVito type.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No worse than anyone else’s, I guess,” she answered, gazing up into eyes the blue of the sea in midsummer. The black-framed glasses he wore suited his face, only served to make those baby blues even bluer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Optimism. I like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled. “This far down the line, optimism is all I’ve got.” She meant it in several ways, actually, but of course Tall, Dark and Gorgeous would only know about the hotel situation. “Where you headed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m on my way home.” He didn’t elaborate, but his manner was friendly, as was that smooth American accent. “You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To a will reading. My Babka died.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere. A genuinely nice guy. Perhaps the only one left in the known world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone chirped and Jess swivelled on her suitcase to let him answer it with at least a modicum of privacy. She tuned out his velvet-smooth voice as the line moved, and when space allowed, she righted her suitcase. A few people had left the queue in search of another hotel - good luck, guys! - and then suddenly it was her turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” she began, trying charm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clerk looked up. His eyes were dull, probably from dealing with so many stressed customers - not all of whom would have been kind. Or even civil. His badge read OWEN.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have one room left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me,” Mr Gorgeous piped up from behind her. Jess noticed that he was last in line. “Did you say you were completely out of rooms?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes Sir,” Owen confirmed miserably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess looked from the clerk to Mr Gorgeous. She was a woman travelling alone. Surely she trumped the tall, handsome guy’s need for a room?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t butting in,” Mr Gorgeous told her. He didn’t seem to have an evil ulterior motive, but you never knew, these days. “You should have the room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I was here before you,” Jess said sweetly. “<em>And</em>, I have a tragic past.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That trumps my teenage acne,” Mr Gorgeous deadpanned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess mentally rolled her eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No way</span>
  </em>
  <span> had this guy ever been short of pant-droppingly hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second desk clerk finished her admin and looked up. “Oh, hey, Mr Kent! How are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess got her passport out for ID as Mr Gorgeous - no, Mr </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kent,</span>
  </em>
  <span> make that - moved to stand next to her at the curved check in desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Sandy. How’s it going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, just fine. It’s too bad about the snow, but a good night for business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’s clerk asked her some standard questions as she tried to eavesdrop on Kent’s conversation with the cheerful clerk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure we have some staff space…” Sandy was saying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’ curiosity got the better of her. “Excuse me. Do you…. Work here?” she asked the tall stranger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, actually, I own the hotel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Had she said that out loud? “Er….” What was she meant to do now? Give up her room?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t expect you to give up your room, by the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” she said again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dammit Jess! Use your brain!</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Er, great. You should have said. About you owning the hotel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled slightly. “Seems to me like that would have been a dick move, and I try not to be a dick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you not being a dick means I get to be cosy tonight, so, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Er, Mr Kent - I’m sorry, but we haven’t been able to send all the staff home after their shifts because of the storm. We’re out of space. Entirely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess tried to make herself as small as possible as Owen studiously tapped her details into the computer. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I got here first. He has way more money than me, he owns the place, for God’s sake!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there a spare office with a couch?” Kent asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess leaned forward. “Er, how big is my room?” she whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A twin,” he whispered back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is the GM’s room, but the couch… isn’t the best,” Sandy replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kent shrugged. “It’s only one night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell, I’d share a room with him,” Owen muttered, and Jess swallowed back a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s yours if you want it,” she whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr Kent doesn’t bat for my team, unfortunately,” Owen mourned. “All done for you, Miss,” he said, brighter now than when she’d arrived at the desk. “Room 103. Last room available.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess took the offered keycard and glanced over, where Mr Gorgeous was wrapping up his conversation with Sandy. Where would he sleep? She pictured his long legs hanging over the edge of a short couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One night on a lumpy couch wouldn’t kill him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, tall dark and gorgeous,” she said, lifting her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked over, his expression more curious than anything. He’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>wondered</span>
  </em>
  <span> if she meant him. Who else was there?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I buy you a drink? It’s the least I can do after stealing your bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clark &amp; Jess have drinks.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So, tragic past, huh?” Kent asked as Jess steered them towards the hotel bar. Like the reception, it surprised her. Nice touches - fresh flowers on the bar. A light box with those stick on letters that read APRIL SHOWERS. Soft music, sort of middle eastern, relaxing, exotic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sort of tragic present, really,” Jess replied, setting her suitcase by one of the cosy lounge chairs that faced the big picture window in the bar. “There’s a reason my email address is jess-is-a-mess at gmail dot com.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed. “Nice to meet you, Jess is a mess. I’m Clark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oooh, like Clark Gable? He was a hottie, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A faint blush tinged his cheeks and the tips of his ears and it was freakin’ adorable. “Uh… thanks.” He shrugged off his thick parka.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what can I get you to drink?” Jess asked, before his entire face turned lobster red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s usually Firestone on tap.” He caught her wrist when she made to get her purse out. “I own the hotel. Just put the drinks on my tab.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way, uh uh. I said I’d treat you. You’ll be mad later, when you’re sleeping on a lumpy couch, if you don’t let me buy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark dropped into the opposite lounge chair. “Lady’s prerogative.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess left him to walk to the bar, ordering a Firestone - it was indeed on tap, nice - for him and a white wine for herself. She paid and carted the drinks back to the table. Clark was gazing out of the window at the blizzard. The whirling snowflakes obscured the night sky and most of the scenery - well, what little there was at an airport.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One Firestone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. Really.” He lifted the glass to his lips and she took a moment to admire a mouth that was way too sensual for a guy who wore glasses and spoke politely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you really have to bunk on a couch?” she asked, sipping her wine. It wasn’t half bad, and Jess would know - she’d drunk a lot of bad wines. For science, obviously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. He had </span>
  <em>
    <span>broad</span>
  </em>
  <span> shoulders under that lumberjack-check shirt. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Definite</span>
  </em>
  <span> hottie alert. “Probably.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you don’t mind? You’re the owner. Could make people bend to your will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He regarded her steadily over the rim of the beer glass. “Easy in the short term, gets harder in the long term. I’ll take the lumpy couch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have to, Jess thought suddenly, her gaze eating up his long legs folded into the lounge chair. She could invite him to share with her. Heat up the cold, snowy night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Have some fun, enjoy a reckless night with a stranger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forget her life for a few hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Easy in the short  term, harder in the long term.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Babka would want her to do the right thing. Go to bed alone. Avoid entanglements. Entanglements were what had gotten her where she was now, after all. God knew she didn’t need </span>
  <em>
    <span>another</span>
  </em>
  <span> complication.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Clark Kent, with his sweet smile and the glasses that should have been geeky but were hot as hell, and his gentlemanly manner and broad shoulders - he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>complicated</span>
  </em>
  <span> tattooed all over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about your Babka,” Clark prompted, drawing Jess out of her reverie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well. She was a firecracker. Never afraid to put you in your place. I loved her honesty. I loved everything about her. Well, except that I had to fly across the country to hear her will read. That’s not so great. But, I guess I have nothing else to do, seeing as I got laid off this week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man, I’m sorry,” Clark murmured softly. Jess met his gaze. He really looked sorry for her. A genuinely nice guy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, the economy these days, what can you do?” She sipped her wine again, looked away, didn’t want to see the sympathy in his ocean blue eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was your job?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was in graphic design for a t-shirt company. They were too hipster, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark arched a brow. “Didn’t know things could </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> too hipster these days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and me both.” Jess lifted her glass and Clark clinked his against it. “Anyway, I got laid off, Babka died, I spent half my savings on a plane ticket to the will reading, and now here I am, having drinks with you, in a blizzard. So.” She gestured with her glass. “Did you always own hotels?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled. The deep sound went right into all the erogenous zones in Jess’ body, and she wondered how his laugh might sound between her legs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hell,</span>
  </em>
  <span> what was one more bad idea on top of the pile she’d already left behind her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My folks own a farm - we supply hotels. It grew from there, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ever not humble?” Jess leaned back, frowned. “Sorry. I have zero filter at the best of times, and now the wine has loosened my tongue to a dangerous level.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark set his beer down on the table. “You want me to tell you what I’m good at? Is that what you want, Jess-is-a-mess?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blue of his eyes was mesmerizing. Jess found herself caught in them momentarily, like a deer in the golden glow of headlights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, then, Clark seems-too-nice Kent. What are you good at?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He caught her hand, tangled their fingers. That sexy voice dropped half an octave. “You’ll have to invite me back to your room to find out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Another drink, and some heavier flirting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p>
      <em>Okay, wow. </em>
    </p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Jess blinked, taken aback. “Uh.. have guys in glasses always been this hot?”</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>A smile tugged at the corner of that gorgeous mouth. “Well, geeks are in, or so I’m told.”</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p><em>Hell yeah they are.</em> Jess took another gulp of her wine. Clark’s hand was strong and sure in hers. How would those wide palms, long fingers, feel on her skin? “Is this just a ploy to get me to share a room with you? Is the couch that bad?”</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>He smiled slightly. His cheekbones were too amazing to be real. “Jess, the lumpy couch is the furthest thing from my mind, right now. And about the bed - I won’t overstay my welcome. Scout’s honour.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You were a boy scout? God, of course you were, just look at you. You probably still help old ladies cross the street.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clark huffed out a laugh. “Are you nervous?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jess looked away. “Why would I be nervous?” she asked, too brightly. “Not like the best looking guy I’ve seen in forever - who also happens to be <em>super </em>nice - is hitting on me or anything, right after my life imploded... and now I’m weighing up whether or not to have probably amazing sex with him or go to bed alone.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>With a low whistle, Clark arched one eyebrow. “<em>Probably </em>amazing. Ouch.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>That encouraged a laugh out of her. “How about dinner. I can’t weigh up amazing sex versus Netflix alone with an empty stomach.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Deal.” He leaned over and passed her a menu. Matte black with evenly spaced, conservative-font text, it was nicer than a budget hotel ought to be.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“So what’s good here?” Jess asked as she skimmed the offerings. The wine had started to buzz nicely in her veins. Maybe a second glass with dinner.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>One did not simply throw caution to the winds on a single glass of wine, after all.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Argentina steak’s always a good bet - the chef here is from there. Though you can’t go wrong with southern fried chicken and biscuits.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“So says a man with a healthy appetite.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clark smiled. “I tell my Ma I’m a growing boy every time she catches me with my hand in the cookie jar.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>I’d like you to put your hand in my cookie jar,</em> Jess thought. “Steak it is. With… a glass of red?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Coming right up.” Clark closed his menu and crossed to the bar. Jess had no qualms about watching the slight sway of his hips as he moved. Damn, that ass had fine written all over it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As he leaned on the bar, striking up a conversation with the female bartender who had a wicked undercut, Jess pulled out her phone.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><blockquote class="">
  <p><strong>JESS</strong>:</p>
</blockquote><blockquote class="">
  <p>Should I put out on the first date? Like, well, halfway through the first date?</p>
</blockquote><blockquote class="">
  <p><strong>MAYA</strong>:</p>
</blockquote><blockquote class="">
  <p>How hot, on a scale of one to ten?</p>
</blockquote><blockquote class="">
  <p>Jess grinned. Maya was always quick to respond in an emergency. She glanced back at Clark. He was still chatting to the bartender.</p>
</blockquote><blockquote class="">
  <p><strong>JESS</strong>:</p>
</blockquote><blockquote class="">
  <p>A billion. Like if Rhett Butler and Patrick Swayze had a baby.</p>
</blockquote><blockquote class="">
  <p><strong>MAYA</strong>:</p>
</blockquote><blockquote class="">
  <p>Seriously?? Hell, yes. But be safe yada yada. And I want everything. No detail is too small. You deserve a good time, darl. X</p>
</blockquote><div class="">
  <p>Clark appeared just as she slid the phone back into her bag. “One rioja.” He set the delicate-stemmed glass down on the table, followed by a pint glass of water for himself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’re not drinking?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He held her gaze for a hot second. “I want to be able to enjoy tonight. Remember it with a clear head.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Wow</em>. Jess looked away, nervous again suddenly. “Okay, so I guess we’re doing this.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We’re doing dinner.” Still standing by her hair, he brushed his hand over her shoulder. “What happens after that is up to you, Jess. You’re in control here.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Those words conjured an image of her sitting astride him, his lean body spread out underneath her on crisp white sheets, his eyes closed, neck taut as she rode him, their hands linked as she gasped his name.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>I want that,</em> she realised<em>. I want that tonight.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>So she stood up and kissed him. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He tasted of the hops from the beer, with just a lick of citrus. His lips parted in surprise and she took the opportunity to gently touch her tongue to his, exploring, requesting. His hands settled on her hips and he made a sexy little mmm sound that arrowed straight into her panties. He smelled of clean soap and cedarwood, and she breathed him in, already intoxicated. One taste wouldn’t be enough. The day’s growth of stubble on his face abraded her lips and oh boy, did she want to feel that between her legs.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’ve decided,” she murmured as their lips parted.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clark arched a brow in silent question.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I <em>absolutely </em>want dessert.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The smut begins.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They walked down the long corridor to her room hand in hand, Clark towing along the suitcase, his duffel bag over one shoulder. Jess glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m really doing this. I’m really going to have sex with this long, tall drink of water of a man.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Second thoughts?” Clark asked softly as they reached the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all. The opposite, in fact.” With her free hand, she tugged the key card free from her jeans and slid it into the door slot. It beeped softly, and when she pushed open the door, the room was light and airy, smelling clean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has anyone ever told you that this is way too nice for a budget hotel?” she asked Clark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled lopsidedly. “The rooms don’t need to be overpriced. Most people eat here the night or morning before their flight. That helps to turn a profit.” He wheeled her suitcase in and left it by the wardrobe as the door swung shut behind them. “Now. Where were we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess looped her purse from over her shoulder and tossed it on one of the generous twin beds, then stepped up to him, tilting her face up for a kiss. “Right here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmmmm,” Clark hummed approvingly. He bent slightly, meeting her lips. His were gentle but firm, promising everything, and Jess’ hunger spiked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m all in.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She slid her hands up his chest, grabbing the edges of his winter parka and pushing it back over his shoulders. Clark helped, shrugging the heavy coat off so it pooled at his booted feet. Jess paid it no mind and started work on the buttons of his plaid shirt, slipping each one through it’s small, soft eyelet. The shirt was warm, slightly woolly on the inside, and she parted the open edges to reveal a muscular chest, furred with dark hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> like,” she murmured, spreading her palms greedily over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chuckle rumbled from Clark’s chest. “Had a few women who’d rather I shaved it off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare. It’d be a crime.” Jess pressed her face to his heartbeat. The hair on his chest was soft and springy, and she breathed him in, the scent of cedarwood and clean soap and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Clark.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to see the rest,” she muttered, and pushed the shirt off. It fell the way of the coat, unnoticed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that I’m not one hundred percent behind this, but shouldn’t we even the playing field?” Clark asked, reaching for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess batted his hand away. “Nuh uh. You said I was in control. So, let me. Let me be in control.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyebrow quirked. Oh boy, she loved the silent sass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured in that velvet voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The snow continued to fall steadily past the window pane, the flakes pristine white against the black of the evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess walked her fingers down to Clark’s belt buckle, feeling his stomach muscles tense. “Ticklish?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A muscle moved in his jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ticklish,” she confirmed cheekily. “Interesting. But that’s for later.” She slipped the tan belt through the buckle, bending the leather to release the silver catch. Her knuckles brushed the bulge in his jeans, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh, yeah,</span>
  </em>
  <span> her suspicions about a correlation with his height were looking to be correct. Desire pooled in her mouth - and in lower places.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glanced up. Clark’s gaze had gone dark behind his glasses, his blue eyes hot. Jess lifted her face again and he obliged her, and this time their kiss was all tongues, fiery and passionate and wants and needs and </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess yanked down the zip on his jeans and pushed down the denim and </span>
  <em>
    <span>holy shit</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was commando and he filled her greedy hands, all steel encased in velvet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark hissed out a breath as Jess learned the length and weight and heat of him, both hands playing eagerly, stroking, cupping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he bit out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, well,” Jess smiled against his mouth. “Boy scout has a potty mouth after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll get worse if you stop,” he warned. “So. Please. Don’t. Stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no plans to. And, I’m in charge, so. Buckle up, Kent.” And she slid down his body and put her mouth to work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The groan that slipped from his lips zinged through her, igniting more lust as she tasted him. His hands settled on her shoulders and she learned that his fingers flexed when she did something he liked. That groan again - she could listen to that forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He panted her name, clenched her shoulder. “Jess - </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, that’s good - </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m going to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flicked her tongue over that spot that made him weak once, twice, and felt the pride of a lion’s roar when he came on a long exhale, shuddering, the pleasure stark on his handsome face, his eyes shut, his neck taut, and she wanted to see if he made that same face when he came inside her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark braced a hand on the wardrobe as Jess divested him of jeans, socks and boots. He tilted her chin up as she stood to face him, his gaze soft. “Jess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I assume you’re going to praise me, now,” she teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m your humble servant,” he promised solemnly. “I think I’m going to have quite the Pavlovian response to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Buckle Up, Kent,</span>
  </em>
  <span> from now on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A laugh bubbled up in her throat. “You know, this is a lot more fun than I expected. A… one night deal, I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark surprised her by scooping her up in his arms and right off her feet. “It’s about to get much, much better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He carried her to the other twin bed, laid her down reverently, fire and promise in his ocean blue eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Big talk, Kent,” she teased, but she had to press her thighs together to stop them from trembling in delicious anticipation. “Hope you can back it up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Jess.” Clark knelt on the bed beside her, trailing a finger down her cheek. With his free hand he slid his glasses off and dropped them noiselessly to the hotel carpet. “We’ve got </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>night, and I intend to make the most of every moment.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just smut.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jess let her eyes eat up the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking fantastic</span>
  </em>
  <span> view as Clark stretched out beside her. Outside, the snow had turned to rain and started to pelt the windows, but the knowledge that outside was glacial only added to the cosiness inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bed was wide for a single, thankfully - Clark was a heck of a man, broadly muscled but still on the lean side. He bent down and kissed a line down her neck, and she arched to give him better access. His busy fingers parted her unzipped coat and laid it on either side of her body, then unbuttoned her red sweater, laying it over the coat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess laughed softly. “I feel like I’m a gift being unwrapped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The best gift I’ve ever had,” he agreed in that gentle Midwestern drawl. He slowly slipped each button of her blouse free of its eyelet, his knuckles brushing the skin of her stomach with each movement, and it both tickled and felt incredibly sensual. When he’d parted that garment, too, Jess sat up and shrugged the whole lot down her shoulders, settling back on to the pillow of her clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfection,” Clark breathed as he moved over her, lowering his head to her breasts. She still wore her bra and his breath ghosted over the flimsy cotton cups. “Do you….” He glanced up at her, his blue eyes dark. “You know, I think I liked it when you were the one in control. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ma’am.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, hell yeah,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jess thought. She could get into this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So did I,” she purred. “And I’d like to be naked now - so snap to it, Kent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned - and a naughty glint entered his gaze. It made her wetter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He unsnapped the front clasp of her bra and then lifted her so it slipped down her arms. With a sweep of his hand, her pillows of clothes tumbled to the floor. Jess gasped at the sensation of Clark’s clever mouth moving down her body as he went to work on the belt at her jeans, then paused to take off her boots and socks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lifted her hips so he could slide the denim down her legs, his mouth following his hands, kissing and nipping and tasting every inch of skin he revealed. Jess closed her eyes and surrendered to the sensations, focusing on the cadence of his breathing, the scent of him, the warm, solid feel of his body moving over hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally his face hovered over the waistband of her underwear and he hesitated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said naked,” Jess whispered sharply. Clark tugged her panties down inch by slow inch, kissing each part of her legs the fabric moved down. When they fell to the floor and he moved over her again, she grabbed his hair, the rush of desire making her bold. “I want your mouth on me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A smile touched his lips. “Buckle up, Kazinsky,” he whispered, and then he did as she’d told him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess held her breath for a second when he parted her with his fingers. She knew a moment of cool air, and then he licked a long strip right over her clit. She almost arched off the bed, but he put pressure on her thighs, holding her in place. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought as he started to trace intricate patterns on that sensitive bundle of nerves, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he really knows what he’s doing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And then he ramped up the pressure by sliding a finger inside her and making a crooking motion and she forgot how to think at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For moments that felt like hours she simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt</span>
  </em>
  <span> as he licked and kissed and savoured her like he was licking a cone of fine, expensive gelato. He worked her over with his hands and mouth until she was a sobbing mess, unknowing of anything aside from the shuddering, endless pleasure he brought her. When finally, finally, the dam broke and she came in a hot rush, stars behind her eyelids, she sank bonelessly back onto the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark kissed his way up her body to lie beside her. Jess noticed absently that he was hard again, cock curved enticingly against his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You aren’t even going to brag?” Jess asked, one arm thrown over her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe later. I’m just enjoying the spaced out look on your face right now,” Clark admitted, somehow managing to look sheepish and insanely proud at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> have a girlfriend? Wait - do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. No girlfriend, wife, or even friends with benefits. I had a serious thing, but it ended recently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess moved her arm to search his gaze. “I’d like to say I’m sorry, but I’m not, because if you weren’t single you wouldn’t have eaten me out like it was an olympic sport.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark huffed out a laugh, but he looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> proud now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So…” Jess walked her fingers down his chest, let her hand encircle his erection. “I assume you want to deal with this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You already did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no. You said I’m in charge, and I want you inside me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell me you have condoms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He crossed the room to his jeans and Jess took a moment to admire the view of his spectacular ass as he rooted in the pockets. He came up with a foil packet and a stupidly dazzling grin, and, back on the bed, handed it to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah,” she murmured. “Lay back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did as she bid and she straddled him, ripping the foil with her teeth and then sliding the rubber down oh, so slowly. A few times Clark’s hips bucked impatiently. “Uh uh - behave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes, and she mock-frowned. “You’re going to pay for that sass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess met his gaze as she positioned herself. Clark settled his hands on her hips as she slid slowly, slowly down, taking him to the hilt. When she was fully seated, they both sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One time won’t be enough.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking it, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands clenched on her hips and she shook her head at him. “I’m in control, remember? Say it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, ma’am,” he gritted out. His control was slipping and she took pity on them both, resting her palms on his chest for leverage. She started out with small movements, rocking her hips, then quickened her pace according to the pants and breathy gasps that escaped Clark’s lips. God,he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>insanely </span>
  </em>
  <span>gorgeous like this, weak with passion, breathless and messy underneath her, and she wanted to feel him come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess clenched her internal muscles hard as she moved up and down on him. Clark’s breaths became more irregular and he breathed her name, his hands hard enough on her hips to leave marks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Something to remember him by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Touch me,” she commanded, and he circled his thumb over her clit, once, twice, and then she was coming, the pleasure spiralling through her veins. Clark bucked into her hard and bit off her name in a throaty rasp, and then she gave in and collapsed on top of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she came to, he was drawing lazy circles on her back with one hand. She shivered at the gentle touch, looked up into his ocean blue eyes. “Wow,” she murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d say that sums it up.” He kissed her temple and then gently rolled her away. “Condom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess lay in the afterglow, staring at the ceiling, dazed, until he came back. He sat on the edge of the bed, a question on his starkly handsome face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She crooked a finger. “Stay. Although we might need to push these beds together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark smiled. “I’ll make a note that twin rooms need to have </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> double beds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They worked together to make the twin beds one big bed, and then Jess snuggled into Clark so he spooned her body. She sighed, turning to press a kiss to his mouth. “Goodnight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight… ma’am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She chuckled as she drifted into slumber.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>More sexytimes!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jess woke up in slow increments, breathing in a heady cocktail of sex and freshly brewing coffee. When she opened her eyes, Clark stood by the coffee machine, completely naked save for his glasses, making them both drinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what I call a room with a view.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark smiled lopsidedly. “I thought you’d want caffeine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat up, letting the sheet pool around her waist, and she didn’t miss the way his gaze slid downward. “I do. Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>usually</span>
  </em>
  <span> this perfect, or do you just peak in hotels you own?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A faint blush skirted up his cheeks and Jess thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot damn.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was the cutest thing she’d ever seen. The best lay she’d ever had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cream, sugar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plenty of cream, no sugar. Thanks.” She scooted to the edge of the bed and Clark offered her one of the steaming mugs. She wrapped her hands around it, breathing in the steam deeply. “Oh, thank God for coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He toasted her with his mug, sipped, sat on the edge of the bed with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You somehow look hotter naked with the glasses. I had no idea that was possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That blush again. Maybe she’d never get enough of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So.. er, when do we find out about the flights?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark lifted a shoulder in a half shrug and dropped it. “The airline should send out some sort of communication. We can always just walk over after breakfast. You hungry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess let her gaze wander over Clark’s flat stomach. “Maybe, but not for food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those ocean blue eyes met hers, and then he very deliberately set his coffee mug down and came to stand in front of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you’ll tell me what I can do for you.” An errant curl flopped over his forehead, his cobalt gaze intense behind those glasses, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh my God,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she could look at him forever and a day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put that tongue to good use.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knelt down. “Yes, Ma’am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess shivered as Clark spread her thighs, pressing kisses up one leg and then the other, his breath ghosting over her most private place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slipped his glasses off, setting them on the nightstand.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Coffee and oral sex.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It had to be the best morning she’d had in her entire life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pleasure spiked when he parted her with his fingers and danced his tongue along her folds and then over the sensitive nub of her clit. He started to draw shapes, really applying himself, and Jess fisted a hand in his hair. He let out a little sigh, and she thought - </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She kept her fingers tangled his his curls as he set to work - Clark Kent was no slouch in the sex department. Jess let her head fall back, setting her coffee down and using her other arm to hold herself up. The little trembles of an impending orgasm started to rock her body, the pleasure trickling through her veins, one heartbeat at a time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More, God, more,” she moaned, as he curled his tongue in just the right place. Twice more and she arched into his mouth, his name rolling from her lips in a half-gasp as she came, the orgasm rocketing through every fibre of her being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Afterwards she lay staring at the ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark stretched out beside her. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span> I feel a little smug, gotta say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t even have the strength to sass you.” But Jess turned over, then threw him a look of invitation over her shoulder. “Suit up, Kent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She heard the welcome crackle of a condom wrapper, and then he moved over her. Jess spread her legs as he pushed into her, hard and hot and </span>
  <em>
    <span>ohmygod</span>
  </em>
  <span> so good, and she lifted her butt to meet his thrusts. In a few minutes he was panting into her neck, and Jess listened to the cadence of his breathing and wished it would never, ever end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Afterwards, he soaped every inch of her gently in the shower, and she looked up in his azure eyes and thought,</span>
  <em>
    <span> right man, wrong time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>After they dried off, Jess checked her phone. “Looks like my flight is taking off at noon. The sky’s cleared.” She glanced over to see Clark, wearing only boxers, looking down at his own smartphone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mine’s at eleven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their gazes met and held for a second, neither of them acknowledging the elephant in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess turned away and busied herself packing. It took almost no time at all, since she’d unpacked so few items, but she made a meal of it, trying not to look at Clark - the way his hair fell just so, the broad line of his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One night and I’m in love - way to go, Jess. You are a mess.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jess, I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” she asked, admiring how the line of his crisp white shirt highlighted his physique.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sharp rap on the door derailed whatever Clark had been about to say. “Good morning, housekeeping, may I come in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After that they headed down to the buffet breakfast. Jess silently resented the other people. She wanted more of that little room, wanted to feed bites of croissant to Clark and then suck him off before another shower, linger with him in the hot water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, they’d get on different planes and never see each other again.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The idiots part ways - but it isn't the end.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jess stood with Clark by the gateway to departures. He bent down to kiss her, and when their lips parted she gently pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Can’t let these fall off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled that lopsided little smile of his. She loved it. She’d miss it. “Thanks. Have a good flight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You, too.” Shit, they were behaving like strangers. Breakfast had been uncomfortable, the hotel buffet area too noisy to talk properly. And what would she have said, anyway?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Will I see you again?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do you want to see me again?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I might never have sex that good as long as I live.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… I never did ask where you were from, Clark Kent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opened his mouth to answer, and the tannoy interrupted, blaring out the final call for his flight. Chagrin paraded over his face. “Jess…. I have to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Of course.” She blinked her suddenly-burning eyes. “Be safe.” She leaned up to tiptoes to kiss him, tasting the tang of coffee and the sweetness of breakfast pastries, wishing she could absorb some of his charm and goodness and kindness inside of her and keep it forever. Wishing she could keep snapshots of him in her pocket, and only bring them out at dusk, when sunlight wouldn’t fade them. “And when you get on the plane… Buckle up, Kent.” Her voice broke on the last word, but they both pretended not to hear it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His gaze went hot for a second. “Always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he was running for the gate, the tannoy announcing again that the flight was boarding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess watched until he disappeared through the security doors, and out of her sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She breathed in deeply, counting the seconds until her heartbeat slowed down to normal, until her eyes stopped stinging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she bought a coffee and went to find her own flight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>******</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stone-faced lawyer repeated what he’d read from Babka’s will, and Jess simply stared at him. “To my granddaughter, Jessica Kazinsky, I leave my Kansas property, and all surrounding land, in its entirety.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess opened her mouth and closed it again. “Babka didn’t have a house in Kansas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was let out, but she never resided in it,” the lawyer said tonelessly. His expressions were so minute that Jess initially thought he was asleep when she’d entered his office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s everyone else?” she’d asked when, after ten minutes had passed, no one else had arrived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They couldn’t make it due to the unseasonable weather; their bequeathments will be settled by mail.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess sat back in the huge leather chair opposite the lawyer. She’d have given anything not to be alone. But that seemed to be her default state. Her father had walked out when she was just a toddler. Ten years later her mother had been blindsided by a heavy goods vehicle running a red light at a busy crossroads.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Babka had been her world. But the older lady had moved in with Jess and her mom when Jess was just three. Jess had never known she’d owned a house in Kansas, or that she’d had tenants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Er… well, what do I do now?” Jess asked, staring past the lawyer at the shelves of books behind his balding head, all arranged as neat as a pin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lawyer held out an envelope. “These are the house keys, together with all the particulars your Grandmother wanted you to have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess took it, absently lifting it to her face. The plain manila envelope smelled faintly of tarragon and chives, and for a moment, she missed Babka so much that she could hardly breathe. Missed cuddly arms. Stories in a lilting accent. Pieces of carnival cake eaten as a midnight snack after crying over a boy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally she came back to herself and the knot in her chest loosened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lawyer’s gaze softened. “Is there anyone I can call for you, Miss Kazinsky?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, thank you.” Jess tucked the envelope into her tote bag, went to stand. “Oh, you never said where the house is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lawyer flicked over his notes. “Ah…. yes. Town called Smallville.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>********</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From: </span>
  <a href="mailto:clark.kent@kentholdingsusa.com">
    <span>clark.kent@kentholdingsusa.com</span>
  </a>
  
</p><p>
  <span>To: </span>
  <a href="mailto:jessisamess@gmail.com">
    <span>jessisamess@gmail.com</span>
  </a>
</p><p>
  <span>Subject: Hell if I know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hi Jess. It’s Clark. I mean, of course you know it’s Clark. You can see my email address.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ve written this message about sixty times and it never gets better. Thank God you know I’m slightly more eloquent in real life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m just out on a limb here, assuming that you didn’t lie about your email address being “jess is a mess…” I guess I’ll know when I hit send.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anyway…. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Can you believe this is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best </span>
  </em>
  <span>draft? I hope you’re laughing right now. I love your laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It boils down to this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can’t stop thinking about you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We had less than twenty four hours together, but I already miss you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I want to see you again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jess and Maya talk over her move, and Clark gets a reply to his email.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to my beta, @princess-of-rivia on Tumblr!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jess, be serious. You can’t just move to Kansas to live in a house you never even knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>existed </span>
  </em>
  <span>before last week!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can. I have the keys.” Jess continued throwing random sets of clothes and underwear into one of the three duffel bags sitting open on her bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maya rolled her nut-brown eyes and sighed disgustedly. “Don’t be obtuse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess stopped packing and stood up, propping her hands on her hips. “Okay, what’s the alternative? Live here without a job, sponging off my best friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d be bored of me being underfoot. I need this, Maya. I’ve been coasting for too long. You know it, and I know it. I’m thirty this year, and pretty soon my “jess a mess” deal is going to wear thin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With another sigh, Maya rounded the bed and hugged Jess, squeezing her hard. “I love having you around. You know I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess had moved into Maya’s beautiful two bed Brooklyn apartment as a stop-gap after a bad break-up, and never moved out again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d miss the top floor apartment. Her bedroom was in the eaves and sometimes the sunshine hit the skylight window </span>
  <em>
    <span>just so</span>
  </em>
  <span> and bathed her face in sunshine in the morning. It had become her favourite wake up call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’ll I do without you?” Maya sighed into Jess’ shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know… actually date? We’ve both used each other as a crutch for ages. We can’t spend our lives on the couch in the evenings with Netflix and cheez wiz.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speak for yourself. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> cheez wiz,” Maya laughed and let go of Jess to plop down on the bed between two of the duffel bags. “Ugh. You’re seriously bringing this jumpsuit? Where will you wear it in Kansas? Do they </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> about fashion?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess dropped the garment back in. “It’s Kansas, not the moon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Girl, compared to New York it might as </span>
  <em>
    <span>well</span>
  </em>
  <span> be the moon.” Maya let out a long breath and dug in her pocket, producing an envelope. “Here. I was going to give this to you the day you left, but I want to do it now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess furrowed her brow. “Okay…. Are you breaking up with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funny. I’ll miss your smart mouth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess shoved aside the empty duffel and wedged herself between it and Maya, sliding a finger under the envelope seal. Inside, folded neatly, was a cheque for a thousand dollars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maya! You cannot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can and I will.” Maya rested her head on Jess’ shoulder. “You can’t refer to me as your Sugar Mommy to your new Kansas pals unless I actually give you money. Let me use my trust fund for once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess stared down at the cheque. “You’re sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure. I want that damn house to be habitable so I can visit once a month! Who knows what state it’s in. I can fly down with you, you know. The offer stands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess snuggled in to her friend. She’d miss Maya so much. She smelled of cookies and lavender, always, and it was a scent Jess had come to associate with home and safety. What would she do without Maya’s baking experiments? Helping her friend to fill orders for her boutique cake service had made many a happy, laughing evening and had boosted her creativity to no end. “Thanks, but if I don’t do something on my own now, I’ll never do it. You know?” She stared at her open wardrobe. “I do have a lot of shit, don’t I. Ten years of halloween parties really add up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maya chuckled. “Maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>bring the cat woman outfit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>******</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>From:  </span>
  <a href="mailto:jessisamess@gmail.com">
    <span>jessisamess@gmail.com</span>
  </a>
</p><p>
  <span>To: </span>
  <a href="mailto:clark.kent@kentholdingsusa.com">
    <span>clark.kent@kentholdingsusa.com</span>
  </a>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Subject: RE: Hell if I know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hi, Clark. OMG, so good to hear from you! I’m sorry for the late reply. You were spammed. How was your flight?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> laugh about that being the best draft, but you’re fine, it was adorable. I was about to write </span>
  <em>
    <span>totes adorbs</span>
  </em>
  <span> but then I realised that I will, infact, be 30 this year and am too old to say things like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So - the will reading was odd. I’ve inherited a house in this town in Kansas called Smallville. A whole house! For me! So that’s where I’m headed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I would love to see you again, but my money situation is </span>
  <em>
    <span>dire</span>
  </em>
  <span> and I don’t know how far Kansas is from where you live.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I miss you too. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Every</span>
  </em>
  <span> part of you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>P.S I can’t believe I wrote that last bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess x</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark stared at the email for a long moment. It had taken nine days, but she’d written back, when he’d about given up. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Smallville.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Wasn’t that a twist of fate?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And </span>
  </em>
  <span>she’d put her cell phone number at the bottom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He checked his watch. It was after 9pm. Would she be home? Packing? Out on a date?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark picked up his smartphone three times. Put it down three times, then thought </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the hell.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He dialled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It rang four times, and Clark was about to end the call when it connected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“..Hello?” Jess sounded sleepy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah - Jess. It’s Clark. Sorry, did I wake you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I’m awake.” He heard rustling, like she was sitting up in bed. “I wasn’t sleeping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pictured her lying in rumpled sheets, naked, nipples pebbled, her hair wild and dark on her pillow. Arousal shot down his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you up to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence. Then she said, quietly, “If I was in bed and not sleeping, I’ll bet you can guess what I was doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Holy, fucking God.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Clark swallowed, suddenly very glad that he lived alone. “Really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised you picked up,” he replied, trying to tamp down on his now, raging libido.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I miss you,” she murmured. “And I knew you might be calling. I was, um, close. Maybe you can…. Talk me through it.” He heard more rustling, like she was pushing the covers back. “I’ve never had phone sex before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me, either.” But he was already rock hard, and with his free hand he unsnapped the fly of his jeans and tugged his cock out. Even the brush of his own hand had him stifling a moan.  “I can’t stop thinking about that night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Best of my life,” Jess breathed. He heard some shuffling. “I’ve put the phone down. I need both hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Holy God.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was going to come just from listening to her at this point. “Jess… tell me what you’re thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed, long and slow. “I’m thinking about pulling your hair while you eat me out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark drew in a shaky breath, his cock jerking in his hand as he stroked himself. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I’d love that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what I thought about, that morning?” Her breath hitched and </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that sound was so sexy. “I wanted to feed you croissants in bed and then suck you off before washing every inch of you in the shower.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Christ</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jess.” He set the phone down on his desk, using his now free hand to stroke his balls as he fisted himself, thinking of how wet Jess would be. What she felt like around him, hot and sweet and oh, so tight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pleasure rushed through his veins. Little rivulets of pre-come leaked down his cock and he used it for lubrication.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me,” she hissed, and he heard her bed creak. “What you’d do to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With some effort, Clark turned the gears in his brain. “Taste you. Everywhere. Endlessly, until you can’t say anything but my name, until you can’t even sass me. God, I love your sass. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I want to be inside you. Bottom out until we can’t get any closer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish you were here,” Jess groaned. “Vibrator’s not the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The image that popped into Clark’s head nearly sent him over the edge. “I’d fuck you into next week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, yes. I want you inside me so bad.” Her breath hitched again, and he could hear her almost sobbing. “I’ve done this every night since, pretending it’s you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> sent him over the edge. Her name slipped from his lips as he spilled on to his hands, an orgasm that hit him like a freight train and seemed to go on for seconds that stretched into hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He vaguely registered Jess’s low moan of orgasm. When he came back into himself, he could hear her breathing, evened out now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” he managed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish you were here,” she said in a small voice.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Post-phone sex catch-up for our idiots in love.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>By mutual agreement they hung up for ten minutes to deal with the orgasm aftermath - more of a chore for Clark than Jess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he phoned back, she hesitated before swiping the screen up. He’d heard her come over the phone. Why was that a big deal? He’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>made her come</span>
  </em>
  <span> in real life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sex had been incredible, even over the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” God, his voice </span>
  <em>
    <span>destroyed</span>
  </em>
  <span> her, even over the line. She felt the renewed stirring of desire, quelled it. “So, ah, before…. That, I was calling. About Smallville.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Okay, safer territory. “My Babka left me a house there. I didn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> she had property in Kansas. Do you know the state at all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About that.” A pause. “My folks’ farm is in Smallville, Jess. And I live on the land.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’ brain stopped working for a second. “Say that again, but slower.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did, and with superhuman effort, Jess pulled her mind from the gutter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you </span>
  <em>
    <span>live</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the same small Kansas town where I now own a house?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God.” Her heart pounded in her chest. “Is this the part where you tell me that you’re moving? Or where you tell me that you’ll pick me up at the airport and then we’ll christen every object in my house with wall-banging sex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark groaned. “Most </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>the second one.” She heard scrabbling, the rusting of paper. “When does your flight get in? I’ll be there, whatever I have to shuffle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’ heart simply turned over as she read the times out. In forty-eight hours, she’d be in Clark’s arms. Every fibre of her being </span>
  <em>
    <span>ached</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be close to him again. “I know I’ve put you on the spot. If you have somewhere to be-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t,” he cut her off, decisively. “Everything else can wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like you to take me up against the wall as soon as we get inside,” she breathed, unable to keep the words from rolling off her tongue. “And keep the glasses on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>******</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maya and Jess hugged tightly at the departure gates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe all your stuff fits in two suitcases,” Maya laughed. “But I’m glad you left a few bits and pieces behind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess glanced at the carry on she towed behind her. Her precious suitcases had been entrusted to the cargo hold, ribbons tied on each handle like Babka had always insisted. The little trick had saved her hours at the carousel, although the mint green ribbons were now getting rather ragged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I do plan on coming back to visit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d better. I’m not letting you go, Jess Is A Mess.” She swallowed, swiping her eyes, and Jess simply melted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maya, don’t cry. You never cry. You didn’t even cry at the beginning of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Up.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, my best friend in the world wasn’t flying into a different timezone then, was she?” Maya sniffed. “I have allergies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hugging her very tightly, Jess kissed Maya’s cheek. “It’s only an hour difference. We’ll talk at the time. I’ve installed zoom now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maya clung for a few seconds longer, then let go. “If you get a new best friend, I’m torching all the stuff you left behind. I’ll do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess offered the little finger of her left hand. “I pinky swear that I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> get a new best friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maya hooked her finger through Jess’s. “Okay. Now it’s set in stone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tannoy interrupted, mechanically bleating out the boarding call. Jess pulled back, reluctantly. “I’ll call you when I land.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you!” Maya yelled as Jess wheeled her carry on through the little security gates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you more!” Jess called back, narrowly missing a man carrying a huge cake box as she turned to reply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>******</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark shoved his hand in his pocket as he waited in the arrivals area for Jess.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is this crazy?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But he knew in his heart of hearts, it felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It was exactly what he’d told his mother when she’d asked what had him so jittery this morning. He’d been antsy during breakfast at the Big House, picking at the eggs over easy she’d made, his favourite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over coffee he’d poured the whole story out, while Martha listened in that calming way of hers, not interrupting, just soaking in his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually she’d said: “You were always a deeply thoughtful child, Clark. You’re a deeply thoughtful man, now. If this Jess wasn’t important to you, you wouldn’t be all twisted up like you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark had nodded. “I need to see where this goes, Ma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martha smiled into her coffee. “Then go get her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Clark had shrugged on his coat and prepared to leave, he heard his father call from the other room, “For God’s sake Martha, can you imagine those hoardes of grandkids a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bit </span>
  </em>
  <span>more quietly? Nebraska called and asked you to keep it down.”</span>
</p><p><span>His mother’s laughter followed him all the way to the car, a favourite sound from his childhood. The Kents meant safety, love, and </span><em><span>home</span></em><span>.</span> <span>He didn’t know anything about his life before they’d adopted him as a baby, and he didn’t want to know. </span></p><p>
  <span>Now he jangled loose change in his pocket with one hand, and held a bunch of dawn-pink peonies in the other, scanning the arrivals crowds for her sweep of dark hair, her big, expressive eyes, her delicate jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when he saw her, his heart pounded a quick one-two in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he thought: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe, this is love.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our idiots in love meet again, and there's a steamy scene in Clark's truck.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You brought me flowers?” Jess squeaked as she reached Clark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No …. They’re actually for the janitor over there. Well, this is awkward.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed and crushed him in a hug. He smelled of cedarwood and coffee and clean soap. She breathed him in. “I missed you,” she whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They embraced a moment longer, the sights and sounds of the airport fading away as Jess’ world narrowed to the man in her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you’ve never seen this house before, huh?” Clark asked, dropping a kiss on her forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope.” Jess clung a moment longer, thrilled by the feel of him, pressing insistently, hot and heavy against her hip. “Is that a pen in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A </span>
  <em>
    <span>pen?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess grinned at his adorable mock outrage. “My bad. I meant, the statue of liberty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.” But he kissed her warmly, the kiss soft and sweet, but with a little heat, the promise of the evening to come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark took her suitcases and she shifted her carry-on as he led her to the car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a bit… rustic,” he began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess admired the GMC Sierra. “So you’re a truck guy, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark opened the trunk and slid the suitcases in - easily, considering what they weighed. “Grew up on a farm. What’s that saying? You can take the boy out of the farm… we could go there first, if you like. If you’re nervous about seeing the new house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’ stomach flipped. Now she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>here,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was a bit more nerve-wracking and a little bit less adventure-y.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually. Yeah, please, that would be great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark pulled out of the airport after Jess buckled up. She glanced at his hand on the steering wheel as he navigated out of the busy airport traffic. The Kansas April was a little chilly, still, and he wore an ancient cord jacket over worn blue jeans and a grey henley. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess hoped she’d be taking them off him in the near future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d spend too much of the short flight obsessing over what might become of them, swinging between </span>
  <em>
    <span>him meeting you at the airport doesn’t mean anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> or </span>
  <em>
    <span>he wants to get married!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She had pushed the latter one aside - of course he didn’t want to get married - or if he did, he wouldn’t know that yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart had beat wildly on the walk out into the arrivals hall. Seeing him there with an armful of peonies had about melted her into a puddle on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flowers lay in her lap, pink petals the colour of dusk and soft as silk, and she stroked one absently as Clark drove them through the industrial buildings surrounding the airport. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good flight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not bad. I like flying. You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, I don’t mind it. Fortunately, in my line of work.” They stopped at a red light and he adjusted his glasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess grinned. “Have I told you lately how </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking sexy</span>
  </em>
  <span> those glasses are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark shifted in his seat. “I’ve spent the last twenty minutes thinking about the cost spreadsheet from my last board meeting to get rid of my hard-on, so thanks for bringing it back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She heard the smile in his voice. “Poor baby,” she soothed. “I’ll deal with it when we get there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The landscape changed to rural as they left the sprawling territory the airport covered, and Clark turned on to a road that opened up into sectioned fields. A large layby came into view, and he pulled the truck in, parking under the heavy branches of an established cottonwood tree.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess looked at him askance, and Clark turned off the engine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about you deal with it now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you’d never ask.” Unclipping her own seatbelt, Jess shifted over and unsnapped his jeans. Clark reclined the driver’s seat and a little groan escaped his lips as she found him commando under the denim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” he muttered, voice husky now, “That night was one of the best of my life. Closely followed by that…. Phone sex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess wrapped her hands around him, exploring, stroking. “Me, too. I’ve been wanting to get my hands - and other parts of me - on this ever since.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all yours,” Clark breathed, eyes drifted closed as she built up a rhythm. A soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> dropped from his lips when she used her mouth on him, tongue swirling around the head of his cock greedily like he was ice cream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God. Never stop,” he pleaded, one hand stroking over her hair. He trembled under her ministrations and a rush of desire and, maybe, </span>
  <em>
    <span>love,</span>
  </em>
  <span> crept up her spine as she worked him with tongue and teeth and fingers, until he was bucking under her, hips moving restlessly. She slid one hand to the base of him and ran her fingernails over that sensitive spot, and he gasped and came, choking her name as he spilled on to her tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess snagged a tissue from her bag and cleaned them both up as Clark sucked in a long breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled at him, her heart pounding, the taste of him making need and want tear up her veins like wildfire. “You can return the favour when we get somewhere with a wall. Or a bed. Or, in fact any surface at all will do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark raked a hand through his hair and started the engine of the truck again, a rakish grin curving his lips. “You’d better buckle up, then, Kazinsky, because you’re on my turf now, and it’s going to be a memorable ride.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Wall sex, and some feelings afterwards.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Clark’s heartbeat had returned to normal by the time he pulled up outside his house on the Kent Farmland.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Much of the acreage was now rented out to local farmers to grow crops. His family still grew a few varieties to supply to boutique hotels, but in general his parents were getting too old to have their hand in the agriculture game for much longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clapboard house was painted a jaunty white, two storeys, bright windows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is me.” Clark stopped the truck outside. “I’ll give you the tour… after.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’ eyes gleamed and her tongue came out to lick her lips, and just like that, he was hard again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rounded the truck and opened her door, locking the vehicle as he snagged her hand and they ran for the door of his house like teenagers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess laughed out loud as Clark dug in his pocket for keys, thrusting them hastily into the lock. The door swung open and he kicked it shut, grabbing for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, God, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>missed</span>
  </em>
  <span> you,” Jess groaned as they embraced, pressing her lower body into his. “I mean, how could I miss you so much? I </span>
  <em>
    <span>ached</span>
  </em>
  <span> for you. it’s just chemistry, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark settled his hands under her ass and lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. “Then God bless science,” he breathed, claiming her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their tongues danced as the kiss deepened, Clark’s heart pounding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess rubbed up against his erection and he thought he might die if he didn’t get inside her right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned them so Jess’ back was supported by the wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need you,” he rasped against her neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then take me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was all he needed to hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark kept one arm under her and used the other to push up the skirt of her dress. When he found her bare beneath it, his pulse skyrocketed..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess grinned against his mouth. “I planned ahead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My kind of woman,” he breathed. Jess clung to him as he clumsily unsnapped his jeans and shoved them down his legs. “Condom in my jacket pocket.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess helped in between kisses, ferreting in his pocket and coming up with the little foil square. Clark positioned himself, rubbing the head of his cock over and over her wet entrance as she fiddled with the wrapper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The little mewls and purrs she made had his balls tight already - he definitely wasn’t going to last.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Between them they managed to roll the rubber down his length. Clark bit off an expletive when he started to sink into her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was hot and wet and tight, and they both sighed when he was finally fully seated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, God, yes,” Jess breathed, settling her hands on his back. “Can you </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> fuck me now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, ma’am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door shook as he set a rhythm, pounding into her with everything he had. Her legs wrapped tight around his hips and she sank one hand into his hair, pulling the way she had in the hotel and Clark’s eyes almost rolled back in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harder,” she whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t last,” Clark groaned against her cheek, his hips already stuttering. “I’ll make it up to you-” and he came with a ferocity that almost made his heart explode, vaguely feeling Jess’ internal muscles fluttering around his cock as he emptied himself into her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His legs buckled and they slid down the wall together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to Kansas,” he said weakly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some time later, they made it to the shower. The hot water rained down on their bodies and Jess purred with delight when Clark got to his knees and proceeded to make it up to her </span>
  <em>
    <span>very well indeed,</span>
  </em>
  <span> giving her a mind-blowing orgasm with his fingers and tongue, licking greedily around her clit and reaching that perfect spot inside her with his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They lay on the bed, drying off. Clark threw on a robe to get the pizza when it arrived, and then brought it back for them to share.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess lifted up a slice. “Pizza and beer, this is the life. Feels like I’m still in New York.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark searched her gaze for a moment. “Do you think you’ll miss it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll miss Maya - my best friend. You have to meet her when she flies out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brow furrowed. “I sure hope she likes me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’ll love you,” Jess soothed, stroking back an errant curl of his damp, dark hair. “Why wouldn’t she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked away, taking a bite of his pizza - a four seasons with added bacon. “It’s a different kind of life, out here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I brought my cowboy boots.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That lifted his mood a bit. “Maybe you’ll wear them for me, and a stetson, and nothing else but a smile.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her answering grin was wicked. “Maybe I will.” Then she yawned hugely. “The flight wasn’t even that long, and I’m absolutely beat. Travelling really sucks it out of me. Well, that and fantastic sex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark’s smile was slow and satisfied. “It was worth the wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess closed her eyes, sighed. “Is it okay if we go to my Babka’s place in the morning? Can I stay with you tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark set the pizza boxes down and pulled her close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His spare bathrobe drowned her and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved</span>
  </em>
  <span> seeing her in his clothes, he realised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loved it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loved </span>
  <em>
    <span>her.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was too soon, but he really could not bring himself to care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay. Sleep in my bed and I’ll make you a Kansas breakfast tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, when you put it that way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d already unpacked her toiletry bag so she dropped a kiss on his mouth and crossed into the bathroom to get ready for bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark looked out of the window at the moon, the crescent hanging low in the sky tonight, the stars winking into being one by one. He loved the sky here, so open, loved the fields he’d grown up in, the sound of birds in the morning. How would Jess adjust?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only time would tell, but he’d do everything in his power to make her feel happy here.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Jess woke slowly, registering the soft bathrobe around her and the sound of Clark’s gentle breathing on her left. She waited for the sounds of the city to invade - an angry car horn here, a shout from a delivery driver there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just…. Birds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rubbed a hand over her face and turned on her side. Clark lay sprawled on his front, hair tumbled, his shoulders rising and falling very softly in slumber. Jess watched him for a long moment, and smoothed a hand over the fall of his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One eyed opened, and a smile slowly curved his lips. “Morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning, sleeping beauty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He coughed out a laugh. “Hardly. Your first morning in Kansas, Dorothy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess grinned and snuggled up to him. Clark turned on to his side, cupped her face, leaned in for a gentle kiss. She breathed in the scent of their sheets, the warmth of his skin. “I like sleeping in your bathrobe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you.” He rubbed his nose over hers, making her laugh. “What else do you like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess trailed a finger down his jaw, over his neck, and settled on his heart. “Pretty much everything here, Kent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> so. Infact-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud rap at the door cut her off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark stretched and looked at his watch. “Shit, it’s after ten. That.. might be my Mom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’s pulse jumped. “Um, not to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>rude,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but I’d like to be dressed to greet your mother for the first time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark chuckled, sliding out of bed. A hard-on tented his boxers and he looked at Jess bashfully. “I’m trying to think unsexy thoughts so I can zip my jeans up without castrating myself. Why don’t you get dressed in the bathroom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words startled a laugh out of Jess and she scurried into the bathroom as Clark closed the bedroom door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She made out distant voices as she used the toilet and scrubbed her face, pulling on a long-sleeved tee, underwear and jeans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cautiously opened the door, hearing Clark’s voice in the kitchen, but unable to make out words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She padded across the hall just as Clark turned, a dishcloth handing over his shoulder, red against his plain white t-shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His glasses sat slightly askew and Jess’ fingers itched to straight them, but she held back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, hello,” an older woman’s voice called from out of sight. “You must be Jess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess stepped further into the well-lit kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark reached out a hand, and Jess took it, feeling like she was wearing a huge label that read I AM THE WOMAN YOUR SON IS FUCKING. “Hi, Mrs Kent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark’s mom grinned hugely. “Please, call me Martha. Mrs Kent is the woman who’d scold me when I snuck out into the corn fields with Clark’s dad by moonlight,” she teased, a glint in her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something inside Jess relaxed. “Martha, then. It’s so nice to meet you.” She held out a hand, but some of the breath left her when instead, Martha enveloped her in a warm hug. The backs of Jess’ eyes burned. It felt like one of the hugs she had received from Babka, and she tried to pull away, confused, but Martha held on, and Jess relaxed into the embrace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they parted, Martha turned to the counter and started the coffee machine going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well?” she asked Clark, hands on her hips. “Breakfast isn’t going to cook itself, son.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess snorted, and caught Martha’s eyes, and then everyone was chuckling together. Through the kitchen window, the sun shone in, casting a sort of halo on Clark’s dark locks, and, Jess thought: <em>you know,</em> </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe I’ll like it in Smallville.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Over </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> strong coffee and huevos rancheros - </span>
  <em>
    <span>boy can cook,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jess thought, impressed - the three of them talked about Jess’ house, how much she missed her Babka.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not trying to be trite when I say this,” Martha murmured, touching Jess’ hand, “but as long as you keep her alive in your heart, she’ll never really be gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tear slid down Jess’ cheek and plopped into her coffee, and next to her, Clark slid an arm around her shoulders, pulled her close and dropped a kiss on top of her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first Clark’s easy affection in front of his mother had confused Jess - other guys she’d been with had resisted showing any sort of display of affection with their friends or family. Not that Clark was a PDA guy - he kept his touches light, casual, but all the same, Jess knew it was very obvious that they were sleeping together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Jess whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you’re off to see the house this morning?” Martha asked in her no-nonsense way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark nodded. “Sweep out the cobwebs, if there are any. How’s Dad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you know. Head in a farming book, as usual,” Martha laughed, but affection shone in her eyes. “He asked me to invite you both ‘round for dinner tonight - nothing formal. Just your favourite pot roast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess glanced at Clark, seeing the grin on his face. “Well, how can I turn that face down? I’d love to see Clark’s childhood home. You know. Make fun of the posters. Hunt for any toys that are leftover from when he was a kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martha rolled her shoulders, clearly delighted. “I can’t speak for toys, but by tonight, I’ll have had </span>
  <em>
    <span>plenty</span>
  </em>
  <span> of time to dig out many pictures of Clark as a toddler.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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